


Coffee And Crime

by fight_flight



Category: Chuckle Fucks (Dungeons & Dragons), Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Corrupt police, Everyone has their issues, F/F, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Ratings subject to change????, Russian!Vithka, Undercover Work, currently unedited, every paragraph is a new tense!, is this past of present tense?, mafia, nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-10-11 21:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20552666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fight_flight/pseuds/fight_flight
Summary: “Was not.”“Was too.”“Was not.”“Was too-”The Chuckle Fucks appear in a coffee shop AU! How could this get complicated?





	1. "Skim Milk. No Sugar."

Atlas forgot to smile as she handed over the paper cup, a hastily scrawled _Morgben_ on it in black sharpie. She was pretty sure Trym was doing that on purpose. She usually blinked innocently at any questions about how many wrong names she was writing down, but Atlas did enjoy seeing Zaaron try his hardest to pronounce _Benglinem_ in his thick Brooklyn accent.

The smile came easy when she noticed a familiar customer walk in, looking as if she were about to fall onto the floor of _I’m Drinking Here!_ Trym was already writing the name _Blink_ next to a pair of closed eyes. One of the few names she got right.

“Turkish coffee this morning, Blink?” Trym asked cheerfully, standing a little below Blink’s already small height.

Blink nodded blearily. “Thanks, Trym. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Trym beamed proudly.

Atlas, being in one of her good moods, packed up a cookie in a paper bag and handed it off with a soft face. “Chocolate chip on the house. You owe me one.”

“I’ll never find a way to repay you,” Blink replied, clutching the cookie to her chest. “Though if you ever need a doctor…”

“You’ll be my first call.”

Blink hunkered down in a corner that they’d somehow come to think of as hers, and started setting up her nest of books, laptop, and stationary. Atlas hadn’t been interested in ‘higher education,’ but it looked like med school was too much work. How hard could it be to cut someone open with a knife and get the bullet out?

The morning rush truly got underway after this, and Atlas kept up a smooth business. She was feeling a little annoyed at being assigned the duty of keeping up the shop. She makes one mistake (where nobody even got hurt!) and suddenly she’s on desk duty. Indefinitely.

It’s a pretty boring day, made even worse when Blink leaves in the afternoon to get to class. Trym too seems down after this, her names getting less creative, and her cheerful smiles strained.

The day finally came to an end and they closed up for the night, putting up the chairs and cleaning the floor. The door opened with a ding of the bell and Atlas waved at Fred as he walked in, careful not to dirty the newly vacuumed carpet.

“Almost done, kiddo?” he asked Trym.

She turned from the register. “Yep. Is Val home yet?”

“Nope. She’s still at the station. Maybe we can bring her some dinner.”

Atlas snapped the light off. “Ugh, get out of my shop. Your loving family is making me sick.”

“Yeah fuck you too, Atlas.”

“Get your old man out of here, Trym. He’s smelling up the place with his _fertiliser_.”

Trym snorted as Fred looked around for a good comeback. He’d be looking a while.

“See ya, Atlas.”

“Good luck with your test, hobbit.”

When she’d finally put the key in the door and locked it tight, Atlas turned to walk up the stairs to her apartment. On top of being demoted, Atlas had to move above the coffee shop and out of one of their nicer rental homes. She found herself living with her older brother, Zaaron, though their parents seemed to trust him well enough.

She couldn’t help but be a little resentful. They’d overreacted to a tiny thing. Somehow Zaaron was still allowed to do stuff for the family. She rolled her eyes when she saw him draped over the couch as she walked in, crossing the path of the TV slowly.

“I’m watchin’ here!”

Atlas waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

→⚫⚫⚫←

Fred was having a Bad Day.

He’d woken up feeling Old and Tired and Ugly.

His hair just couldn’t seem to sit right, he seemed to have shrunk, even more, Val over a head taller than him, and his clothes just didn’t seem to fit right. His beard was still on point, but… it was a Bad Day.

Trym was at school today and so he felt it was safe to go to the coffee shop without embarrassing her. At lunch, he sighed, traveled the few streets from his lab to _I’m Drinking Here!_ and went inside hoping some of the new tea Atlas had reluctantly got in for him was good.

He considered calling Val to see if she wanted to catch up for a short lunch, but his wife was ever busy as police captain, and he was thrilled to see her succeeding. His own work could have been going better but it would get there eventually.

It was as he was walking into the coffee shop that he spotted a man at the counter, probably much younger than Fred himself, but handsome, nonetheless. Fred watched as he ordered a caramel latte, his curly hair bouncing as he nodded to something Zaaron was saying behind the counter. His skin was dark and as he turned to move out of the way for the next customer, Fred caught a glimpse of gloopy brown eyes and rolled his own eyes at such silly daydreams, heading to the counter for his own order.

Zaaron greeted him as usual, his Brooklyn accent somehow more obnoxious than ever. Fred let him talk himself out a little before giving him his order, throwing a menacing wink to Atlas by the espresso machine, and heading over to stand nearby Mr. Curly and try not to eye him too much.

Mr. Curly gave him a shy smile and Fred tried to smile back politely, but probably coming off as a Flirty Gay Old Man as was his curse. Mr. Curly looked away quickly after and grabbed his coffee to go. Fred watched him leave, surprised to catch a curious glance back before the door shut.

Atlas, at the counter, was sending him knowing smirks, holding his tea as if contemplating whether he deserved it. He approached anyway, surprised when all she did was hand over the drink and mutter, “Good taste, Fred.”

Fred took the tea, deciding to just head back to the lab instead of spending more time in the goddamn coffee shop.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Mismeia sat quietly in a snug lounge in the coffee shop, warm from a mango black tea that Atlas had blessed her with. It was starting to get dark and it was nights like this when she appreciated that the shop stayed open later on Friday nights.

The atmosphere was soft and quiet, mostly singles typing away or reading and a few couples sharing cakes or the occasional word. It was the perfect setting for a good book and some tea.

The exact book she had chosen will remain nameless as it would embarrass Mismeia greatly if revealed. What can be said though, is that it was the latest work of a very beloved author of her and she coveted the prose as only one who loved books could.

As she let out a small contented breath, Atlas, brash and loud, crashed into the lounge across from her and groaned. “I’m bored.”

Mismeia looked up with critical eyes. “How is this my problem?”

“Because you’re here, ya bastard.”

She placed her bookmark inside securely and closed the book. “How am I supposed to entertain you. I’m not exactly in the mood to throw biscuits at pigeons again.”

Atlas snorted. “It’s lucky you can walk through the park without them swarming you in anger. You are brutal to pigeons.”

“How rude. You were much worse.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too-”

Atlas waved a hand. “I can’t leave the shop anyway.” She hummed, eyeing the book on the small table between them. “What’s that?”

Mismeia arched an eyebrow. “A book? I’m not sure we have the time for me to teach you how to read Atlas. Nor do I have my first edition of _Spot_ on me.

Atlas glared. “I can read, asshole.” She rearranged her position on the couch, a leg slung over the back and her head at a strange angle on the arm. “I just meant what _type_ of book are you reading?”

Mismeia’s naturally reddish skin hid her blush well enough from Atlas’s lazy glance. “Look for yourself, if you wish.”

Atlas hummed before righting herself on the chair and grabbing at the book. She scrutinised the cover and the blurb and seemed to summon a modicum of interest. “Oh, Missy. You’re just full of surprises.”

They went back in forth for a while after that and Mismeia hadn’t been worried about Atlas finding out her reading preference. It was just something she didn’t tend to share with anyone. Perhaps she had not been close enough with many people. Atlas was surprisingly easy to get along with. She should be surprised. Mismeia was not blind to the activities of the Santoros, especially after some donations they had made to her family’s political campaign in exchange for… favours.

Mismeia talked for a little longer until it was truly time for Atlas to get back to work and she reluctantly pulled herself off the couch. It wasn’t far from closing anyway. Mismeia allowed herself a single chapter before heading out into the windy night air to catch a cab home to read more of the latest masterpiece in her hands.

→⚫⚫⚫←


	2. "Decaf. Pump of Vanilla."

“Up, Trym. Time for school.”

Trym glared at the door, blinking her eyes dully. “Five more minutes.”

“Five,” Fred mumbled through the door. “But no more.”

There was a shuffling as Fred walked away and Trym groaned. He was too nice. She couldn’t even sleep longer without feeling bad for taking advantage of his kindness.

A minute later Trym was crawling out of her room and into the hall, bumping into Val dressed in uniform looking just as tired as Trym felt. Val grinned as she put her weight down on Trym. The two of them stumbled together down the hall, laughing as they fell over each other again and again.

Fred looked up as the two of them entered the room. He looked to be packing lunches, cutting off the crusts to Val’s. A warm feeling filled Trym and she plopped into a chair smiling at her foster parents.

She ate a bowl of Generic Chocolate Cereal and had a Generic Morning with a Warm and Loving Family before they all headed off on their separate ways.

Fred would be dropping her off at school before heading to the lab to work on some research and maybe give a lecture later depending on the day. Trym couldn’t get his schedule straight in her head. It never seemed to have a reliable routine. Val was headed to the station. Though they lived in a ‘boo cops’ type household, Val herself was one and had worked hard to keep the precinct she was captain of honest and just.

School was never exactly a fun affair. Val and Fred had the money to afford it so she went to a private school, where she hated the majority of the people there. That seemed to be a rather common high school experience though and she found herself uninterested in much besides getting a good grade and staring at her crush.

Ah, yes. There was one person there who Trym found to be Not Terrible and she happened to be a senior in her year, just having transferred to the school this year with her sister as support. Trym had been gone on her since she first strolled into class, towering over most of the students with her impressive height yet still a little shy and quiet by nature.

Avangeline, or Evie as she was known, had spoken to Trym maybe twice in the past three months of her being around. She’d helped her find the library her first week there and about a month ago she’d dropped her books in front of Trym who had promptly dropped down to help her, almost fainting at their height difference once standing back up.

Trym let herself think about Evie all the way until she was at her locker, realising the bell had rung minutes ago. Blushing with embarrassment, she gathered her things and rushed to class, opening the door to her homeroom teacher giving her a reproachful look, but not detention. The announcements went on and Trym took her usual seat by the door, sneaking a glance to her left where Evie was sitting looking gorgeous.

She caught her eye and a smile was sent Trym’s way that made her blush harder and turn her eyes to the front, missing the confused head tilt Evie was sporting.

She hadn’t told anyone, but the two people in school that she actually spent time with had known from their first class together. Trym couldn’t say they were exactly friends, but she did find it more amusing to listen to the Santoro twins talk shit than others. They seemed to enjoy teasing her about various things enough to hang out with her too, though she’d never be caught dead seeing them outside school.

Though Fred had initially been against her having shifts on school nights, they’d talked about it and Trym had bugged him enough that he’d allowed it as long as she was home by nine and only two shifts outside weekends. Tonight she’d have a shift and allow the task of making coffee and listening to another one of Atlas’ shitty playlists lull her into her happy place.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Blink opened up the microwave at the familiar beeping, pulling out a container of soup carefully. She looked down at it appreciatively, stirring it with a smile. It turned a little concerned as she looked over at Vithka watching curiously.

“You know, Vithka, you don’t have to follow me around the campus when you’re not doing your research.”

“Everything is research,” Vithka replied simply. “But if you are acting with uncomfortable then I will cease.”

“It’s no bother. Everything though? When do you take breaks?”

Vithka smiled serenely. “No need to take a break from learning of the world, my friend.”

“Sure, buddy,” Blink replied easily. It wasn’t that people disliked Vithka. She just tended to phrase things strangely. It was probably a cultural thing. Even Blink found herself confused about some of the things that happened in this country.

They sat together, Blink eating her soup and Vithka watching as people used the campus kitchen. Blink tended to wander away from the medical school part of campus to use the facilities. Partly because the kitchen was better and partly because she knew Vithka would be waiting like she had been for about a month now.

Vithka had been in the country for a year apparently and through all the language barriers and Vithka’s weird way of phrasing things, Blink had only parsed that she’d been essentially homeless until the university had found her research and brought her in to work on her half-done thesis. Vithka insisted this period of her life where she ate from bins was vital to her path to enlightenment. Blink hadn’t been so sure, but Vithka seemed happy and enjoyed her research, whatever it was, so it was all fine.

Vithka stood up in the middle of Blink raising another spoonful of soup to her mouth. She stretched out and nodded once. “I am late for duck appointment.”

Blink went to ask but looked at the time and the amount of soup she had left. She needed to get back to studying soon. “Okay.”

Vithka waved goodbye and Blink watched her, eating soup carefully while Vithka made her way outside and to the middle of a grassy area, pulling a bag from her pocket. Blink choked when she seemed to fling out seeds wildly and with abandon, birds immediately flocking to her and ducks descending on the seeds she used like confetti before sitting down with crossed legs. Blink couldn’t see her face but she would bet a lot of soup on her eyes being closed.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Atlas nodded to Fred as the old guy came into the shop for not the first time this week. It was almost becoming habit to see Fred here around lunch and read out Frank on the cup of tea he was ordering.

She supposed it could be correlating to the fact that one of her other customers seemed to be coming in a lot more around similar times, stumbling over his coffee order every time. How hard was it to order a mocha? Still she made him say the order every time like she didn’t remember him, because she wasn’t _bloody interested in this stupid teen romance happening in my goddamn coffee shop_.

And yet.

Fred still came in, his eyes giving a quick glance around the room, sinking a little when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Atlas glanced over his shoulder before smirking and asking for his order.

He told her, eyes narrowing at the look on her face. “What is it?”

“You coming in here so often looking for that cute boy… what would your wife think?”

Fred rolled his eyes. “You know Val and I are polya, Atlas. Besides I’m not looking for anyone. And if I was, that is none of your business.” He straightened up before immediately slumping. “That obvious?”

Atlas winked over his shoulder. “Very. What can I get for you, Darryl?”

Fred jumped and looked over to see a very surprised Darryl, blushing hard and seeming to reign in a small smile. “A um, a… a…”

Atlas watched him struggle. It was cruel since she knew his order, but she couldn’t help enjoy his fumbling.

“A mocha.”

It wasn’t Darryl, but Fred who spoke up and they both seemed embarrassed by this, but Atlas sighed before throwing the cup with Darryl’s order, that she’d of course written about five minutes ago, the cardboard hitting Zaaron who whinged, grabbing it from where it had landed on the counter.

By this point it seemed Fred and Darryl were in their own world and she had to clear her throat loudly before they looked back at her. “I’ve got other customers, assholes. At least clear the door.”

They did, Darryl sheepishly apologising. They sat down at a table together, chatting as Darryl snuck glances at Fred like they were on some cute-ass first date. Atlas muttered angrily to herself as she made Zaaron wait until both orders were done before shouting them out. “Go take your gross flirting somewhere else,” she told Fred.

He looked at her disgruntled face before smiling. “Thanks, Atlas.”

They left the shop, Atlas writing another name down on another cup. Truly revolting.

_Sofhieiaia_

→⚫⚫⚫←

Val frowned at the photos in front of her. He was back in the city, setting up for something. She went for the phone at her desk before pausing and reaching for her mobile instead. She sent a message off to Zadia and leant back in her chair. It would be better to discuss this in person.

She’d always tried to teach Trym that corrupt cops were the worst of the worst. The ones who used their power to do things that any other member of society would be condemned for. She was such a hypocrite. She had stopped wondering whether colluding with the Santoros was right years ago. Now she just wonders how long it’ll be until she’s caught.

She thought of Fred cutting off her crusts and the two of them sitting in the dark as she doubted everything she was doing and he let her spin it all into catastrophes before bringing her back down. She thought of the first night Trym slept in their apartment and he told her that he couldn’t believe they were so lucky to have everything. She looked over at the one picture on her desk of the three of them holding a pot with a Christmas tree sapling Fred was going to plant on Christmas Eve. A tradition. He’d cried the first time Trym had been there to plant it with them.

Maybe she wasn’t doing the right thing. But she’d never stop trying.

→⚫⚫⚫←


	3. “No Ice. Extra Whipped Cream.”

“She’s coming here for a signing!”

Atlas, Zaaron, and three random customers turned to look at Mismeia as she ran through the entrance in excitement. She blinked at the sudden attention though and went up to the counter, ignoring the three others that were turning back to their drinks.

“What can we getcha, Missy?” Zaaron asked, chewing over a piece of gum in his mouth. Atlas glared at him until he was making his way over to the bin to spit it out.

Atlas shooed her brother to the machine to start prepping orders, leaning on the counter to indicate she was listening. “Go on.”

“It’s her. My _favourite author_. She’s coming here! Just down the street really.”

It was here that Atlas got the impression that Mismeia happened to be one of the crazy fans that were usually contained to boy bands or queerbaiting TV shows. Atlas got it though. If Al Capone had walked in the building she’d be gushing too.

“I’m just so excited. But also nervous,” Mismeia continued. “Which book should I get her to sign. Her new one? Or maybe her debut. I’ve been reading from her first novel. I should tell her that… or not.” She seemed to become more nervous and worried with every word.

“What does she write? Would I know her?”

Mismeia laughed a little awkwardly. “Oh, um. No. I don’t think so. She’s not very mainstream or anything.”

Atlas shrugged. “Then she’s probably happy for anyone to fangirl over her. Just be chill and things will be fine.”

The answer was some more nervous shuffling and a pause in which Mismeia was given her coffee blend and Atlas took another order. “Would you come with me?”

It was a genuinely surprising question. “What?”

Mismeia grimaced. “Please don’t make me ask again.”

“Alright… why me?” This seemed to create an awkward atmosphere and Atlas sadly wondered if Missy had many friends outside her books. Atlas really was getting soft. “Alright. Just this once. When is it?”

They made their plans, Zaaron eyeing her curiously in the background. Mismeia left and Atlas turned to him. “I know, I know, alright? Maybe if Mother and Father would let me off bloody coffee shop duty then I wouldn’t be making friends with the fucking customers.”

Zaaron shrugged. “I aint sayin’ nothin.”

Great.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Fred popped another strawberry into his mouth. “I don’t see why you’re all putting me on blast like this.”

Three faces looked over at him where they were all sitting at the kitchen table. Fred had run into Blink after giving a lecture and invited her over. It had been a while since they’d been able to see each other for more than five minutes. Val had come home with Trym to Blink and Fred discussing recipe choices for their dinner.

Val bringing Chinese food back with had just made them discuss dessert instead.

Now here he was, eating strawberries, waiting for the pie to finish up in the oven, and trying to avoid the invasive questions about the guy he was spending so much time with. Trym particularly liked pointing out their age difference.

Fred had a suspicion this was a point in his favour to Darryl who he’d already spent three of this week “bumping into” at the coffee shop. Atlas had asked very politely for him to never walk in their establishment again so he figured he’d give it a few more days before coming back.

“Come on, babe. We’re just curious. It’s been a while since you’ve talked about anyone.”

Fred hummed. “Yeah. I guess there just hasn’t been anyone worth writing home about. Darryl is.. well, he’s really hot.”

Trym cringed. “Okay, yeah I changed my mind. I don’t want to know anything.”

They laughed over this for a little, the timer finally going off. Blink waved him down as he went to deal with it, serving them all a piece of pie as Val fetched the cream.

“How’s school going?” Blink asked as they all gathered together again. She pointed this question at Trym who shrugged slightly.

“It’s school. Grades are good.”

“I fucking hated high school,” Fred commented. He would have said more, told Trym that she didn’t have to be there if it wasn’t making her happy, but they had this conversation at least once a month and it wasn’t due for at least another week.

Blink nodded. “It does not seem to be a fun system in this country. Last year for it though, right?”

Trym did seem to brighten at that. “Yep. Then I can work more at the coffee shop and apply for some different things.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Something like Val I think.” She almost said more, but Fred watched her hold back a little. He thought of the parents she had been missing for so long now. She had been clear about her desire to find them and though Fred worried over the idea of her pursuing such a dangerous situation, he knew this wasn’t his choice.

Val seemed to be thinking along the same lines, but her smile softened at any idea that Trym wanted to be like her. “She’d do amazing anywhere.”

Though Trym was already ducking her head at the compliments, Blink bumped her shoulder warmly. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

Fred asked about Vithka who had become a bit of a celebrity at their campus and a common subject among the professors. Blink didn’t have much to say, the woman a mystery despite all the weird things she said.

“I’m thinking she’s protected by the government or something,” Blink mused. “Maybe her research is more important than I suspected. Photos and videos of her keep getting confiscated, though she’s apparently impossible to keep in a library working on things.”

Fred laughs. “Maybe Val should do a background check.”

Val raised an eyebrow at that. “Of course not. You two are probably talking over nothing. Invite her to dinner soon, Blink. Perhaps she’s having trouble adjusting. Either way, you should show her the gardens, honey. Seems like she enjoys the outdoors.”

Trym looked suspicious at the thought of a new person at the house, but she didn’t argue, looking over her chemistry notes for the test tomorrow.

They were all falling into a comfortable silence when Val’s phone went off, slicing through the warm atmosphere and seeming to turn cold as she watched it ring. “Sorry, give me a minute.”

Fred frowned, sighing as he turned back to Blink and Trym. “Work. Things have been a little hectic lately.”

Blink nodded. “It’s getting late anyway. I’ll head out when Val gets back. I’ve got a class in the morning.”

Eventually goodbyes were given, Val distracted and her smile tired. Fred tried not to think on it while he walked Blink out to her car, the ground wet from recent rain.

“You should bring Vithka by the lab if you have the chance. Or send her by herself. Val is right. She might be having trouble adjusting here. I imagine Russia is quite different.”

Blink hummed. “I’ll talk to her. It’s strange. The impression I get from her is just that she could be anywhere she wants, but she’s at the campus sitting with the ducks.”

Fred laughed. “I’m glad you’ve found a friend on campus. I wish I was there more to hang out. I know not everyone in your classes is fun to be around.”

“A friend, huh? I suppose she is.” Blink stopped to open the car door. “I just wonder how long she’ll be around.”

Hugging goodbye, Fred watched as Blink drove away. He looked back to see Val standing a while away by the door, watching him with an unreadable expression. Unreadable for most at least. For Fred it was Val’s Things Are Not Fine expression.

He wandered over slowly, meeting her half way. He grabbed her hands in his own, swinging them slightly as if they were dancing. She let herself fall to lean on him and though he was much shorter, and they were in the middle of the street, he had done this a hundred times and would do it a hundred more.

“What is it, my dear Valanthe?”

Val sighed into his shoulder. “He’s back. I have to go see Zadia and Karvius.”

Fred tensed. Worse than he’d thought. “How long has he been in the city?”

“Just since yesterday. He hasn’t done anything yet, but…”

“He will. What should we tell Trym?”

Val shook her head. “She’s doing well. I don’t think it’s time to bring it up.”

“Val…”

“Fred, please. Not yet. Let school be the only problem. At least for the week.”

Fred said nothing to this. “When are you meeting them?”

“Now. I’m sorry, baby. Look after Trym, okay?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back with a huff. “Be careful. Call if you need anything.”

She was already leaning away, straightening her jacket. “I will.”

Fred said yet another goodbye and watched her leave before heading back inside to Trym bent over a textbook with a frown. She looked up at his entrance. “Somethings up, huh?”

“Yeah, kiddo.”

“What is it?”

“Something we’ll talk about later. Do you need to do this tonight or do you want to watch a movie?”

Trym was quiet and just as Fred was remembering her test for the next day she pushed the book away. “I’m finished now. Let’s watch something.”

He must look pretty worried if she was stopping to humour him. He threw an arm around her shoulders, guiding them into the living room with a sense of relief.

→⚫⚫⚫←

“Darling, come in.”

Val would have preferred to meet them _anywhere else_ but she supposed it was doubtful anyone would even be able to make out a person in the dark, let alone Val covered in a jacket, hood, and large scarf. She’d even parked a couple blocks away.

Besides, she wasn’t in a habit of arguing with the insistence of the mafia.

“Zadia, hi.” She had waited until she was inside to speak, the grandness of their house even now shocking her as if it were her first time there.

They followed through on the necessities, Val taking off her layers and allowing Zadia to check for a wire. Usually this would be done by someone a little lower on the chain, but Val had known Zadia before she’d married into the Santoro family and Val would have stabbed someone before letting them check her over so thoroughly. She left that to close friends, family, and some of her more fun acquaintances.

It was just as they were finishing up that Karvius made an appearance. He was a rather intimidating man; tall, muscular, and with a resting face of a pissed off lion. “Mr Santoro,” she greeted.

His smile was warm when it came. “Valanthe, please. You know you need not call me so formally.”

They had this little song and dance every time. Val attempted to keep it formal and they went back on forth on it until the best they could do was Val calling him politely, but treating him with none of the respect his title commanded. It didn’t help that she constantly thought of Fred and Karvius setting off home-made explosions in the desert when they’d all taken a trip.

Zadia and Karvius were both intimidating and beautiful people. Illegal people. But Val, a girl who’d dreamed of being a police officer since she was six, was friends with people. Friends with the mafia. The world certainly was a funny place.

They ended up drinking scotch on the couches in the study. Val asked about the kids. All six of them. In turn she talked a bit of Trym and said Fred missed them.

He did in fact miss them. They both did. Somehow things had gotten complicated when Zadia had married Karvius a year after Val herself. She’d only found out who he was a year after that after they’d all grown quite close. She’d been with Fred for a long time by this point and they’d seemed to have found the perfect friends to spend all their time with.  
Finding out their friends were mafia? Well, Val had distanced herself immediately and ever loyal, Fred too had limited contact. It had taken around four incidents where Val had called Zadia for help and vice versa that they’d decided that they could work better together.

Becoming captain had made things easier though. She had to be more careful, but she could do more good for the city. They had also spent a little more time together and things were almost back to how they were. Val still loved them dearly. Zadia had known her since school after all.

“Let’s get down to it, then,” Karvius said at the next lull.

Zadia turned to look at her seriously. “He’s really back? Von Dutch?”

“Yeah. My people tell me he’s staying with someone in the North district. Not far from here.”

“Ours too.” Karvius leant back and finished the last sip in his glass. “We’re still waiting on information of this Polaris Glass.”

“I’ve had Glass in for prostitution before, but nobody has been able to pin anything down. I thought he was a nobody. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Zadia shook her head. “None of us have exactly been keeping a track on the prostitution trade. I’m surprised this Glass has a place up North though. How did that happen?”

“No idea.” Val clenched her hands together. “Something about this whole thing is wrong. Why is he suddenly back? Has he been planning all this time? I don’t know what to do. I have to keep Trym safe.”

“She’s going to be okay.” Zadia reached out a hand.

Karvius’ voice was quiet. “Do you want this handled, Valanthe?”

She almost said yes. She wouldn’t have to worry. Trym would be safe. Fred would be safe. Val would be safe. Von Dutch would be gone. For good.

“No. Not… not yet.” Yet. Even this tasted rotten in her mouth. She couldn’t rule it out entirely though. Not if her kid was in danger.

“Then we need something to start on. Our people are already gathering information.” Karvius looked over to the fire beside them, the flames flickering in the reflection of his eyes.

“Thank you. There are some things I can’t get using my systems. I need to find a way to catch him doing something before he fucks us all over. Again.”

Zadia moves from behind her husband to sit beside her. “I wouldn’t worry, dear. How far can one get with both the police and the mafia watching your every move?” Her smile seemed to turn a touch sadistic. “How stupid to even _think_ of returning.”

Val took little comfort in the words. She remembered his small eyes peering down at her. Her first undercover mission. Her only undercover mission. The scars are still neon on her body and her mind.

As she leaves the house, she swears she hears a click. She turns. There’s nothing there.

→⚫⚫⚫←


	4. “Triple Shot of Espresso.”

Trym threw her shoe at Arkius. “You’re annoying.”

Arkius put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Your words hurt more than any shoe could, Trym. Every one of them pierced my delicate soul.”

“I’m somehow not concerned.”

Pouting he turned to his sister. “Leoni, she’s bullying me.”

“Of course she is. Your shoes are _so_ last season, dear brother.” Leoni was too busy adjusting her make-up to pay any attention to the very concerned look Arkius was now giving his shoes, completely over the one Trym had just thrown at him.

Perhaps that’s why Trym wasn’t so bothered hanging out with them. They were snooty private school kids, but they were also so flexible and uncaring of the day to day annoyances. They complained, but it didn’t last long and somehow they always thought up something to comment on. It was entertaining without all the investment.

“You really think they’re out of fashion? I swear I just bought them.”

“Don’t worry,” Leoni assured him. “I have a spare pair in my locker that will be much better. I shouldn’t have let you leave the house like this.”

Arkius seemed to forget the shoe issue in an instant at that, turning back to Trym with a grin. He often looked like a devil. They both did, really.

“Evie was looking at your back all throughout biology, by the way.”

“Unsurprising considering she sits behind me,” Trym told him, successful only in keeping her voice cool while her face heated.

“I think she wants to get to know _your biology_, Trym.”

Leoni snapped her compact closed and primly turned to them. “As awful as his phrasing is, my brother happens to be right. I am about 74.7 percent sure that any advance you made toward Evie would be accepted happily.”

“And I am one hundred percent sure,” Arkius added.

Trym opted to just ignore them, standing as the bell rang and Arkius rushed off to grab the new pair of shoes, suggesting they burn the old pair together after school. Trym tells Leoni that she’s uninterested in committing arson. Leoni tells her it will be easier to let him drag them along to watch him amuse himself.

It’s a nice day.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Blink is surprised not to find Vithka in the kitchen like she always does. Today she has chilli con carne, leftover from dinner of two days ago. She goes to heat it but notices movement from the corner of her eye and must put the chilli back to investigate before she drops it in surprise.

There’s Vithka. Outside. Seemingly teaching a dance class. She’s amassed about fifteen people and she’s halfway through explaining a move when Blink comes outside.

It’s a clear day luckily and everyone seems to be having a lot of fun. Blink notices a security guard sitting on a bench nearby looking tired even as he watches for danger.

“Time for going again!” Vithka instructs, starting up some music. There are a lot of bending at the knee and swooping hand gestures. It’s quite entertaining to watch. She doesn’t even notice Vithka until she’s right beside her smiling.

“They are done good, no?”

“Very good. Why are you teaching dance today?”

Vithka seems to find this a peculiar question. “There are being some people asking what I was doing. I show what I can. Though usually there are swords.”

Blink supposes this is as good an explanation as any. She still has chilli to eat. She turns to go.

“You will not dance?”

Looking back, Vithka looks disappointed. Blink looks at the people who have dissolved into laughter, the dancing sloppier than ever. “I missed the lesson so I don’t know how.”

Vithka holds out a hand. “Let me show you?”

Blink decides the chilli can wait a little longer.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Atlas frowns down at her phone. She’s surprised to get a message from her mother rather than a call and even more surprised at the content.

_Mother: Protect Trym at work. No questions yet. Just watch out for her. If you see either of these men, contact us immediately. Love you._

The attached pictures are both mug shots and Atlas sears them into her memory before she starts work. Trym comes in the following night and Atlas watches the store and her little employee like a hawk.

Zaaron has similar instructions and the two of them have not been so alert here for a while. She doesn’t want to screw up again. Besides she likes Trym. She’s a good worker. Hiring staff sucks.

There are several surprises this week as Fred comes in looking tired and immediately ducking behind the counter when he sees Darryl enter.

She serves the guy and he lingers only a few minutes before heading off. Atlas gives Fred a push to get out of their work space. “What the fuck was that?”

Fred sighs and slumps. “Sorry. I just don’t think now is a good idea to get involved with anyone.” A dark look passes over his face. “I just don’t know how to explain that to him. Unfortunately hiding is the best option right now.”

“You’re just going to ghost him? Just send him a message and explain.”

Fred mumbles something and Atlas seriously thinks she must be in mafia mode because she thinks she hears “might get intercepted” and “spies everywhere” before Fred is ordering some tea and hurrying back to the lab.

What the fuck is going on?

She calls her mother later, but she sounds distracted and says they can’t discuss the details yet. But it’s beginning to sound like they’ll let Atlas back in on this one. Maybe. She’s going to resort to praying if this keeps on.

It isn’t until the end of the week that she gets some clear news. It’s good news too and has nothing to do with the weird stuff going around right now.

Leta Goldgust herself sends a message and Atlas smile foolishly alone in her room as she reads that Leta will be in the city in about a week. They don’t know for how long yet and Atlas isn’t trying to be too hopeful, but she already has a plan for making Zaaron leave the apartment so Atlas can just make her live _here_.

She tells herself that _this time_ she would tell her. This time they’d stop dancing around things. She felt good about it.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Fred steps back from the primrose with a sigh. It’s looking rather sad and weathered and he can’t help comparing it to himself. The yellow is still bright though and it makes him think of Darryl. He should really make that call.

“Uh… hello?”

Looking up, Fred smiles. “Hi. How can I help you?” He’s alone here, the other two that usually work off to lunch. Though he enjoys the company, it is easier to work when there’s nobody around.

The girl seems distracted, looking around at the various plants around. They have a greenhouse out back too. It’s where Val had told him they’d been approved as foster parents.

“I am searching for a person who is called by Fred.”

Fred points to himself. “That would be me. Fred Irregular.”

Her face clears. “My friend Blink sent me. I am Vithka.”

“Ah of course. You’re from Russia, yes?”

“Yes.” Vithka looks around the lab again. “This is working station?”

Fred nods. “I spend a fair amount of time in here. We also have a greenhouse where I set up when I’m not doing technical stuff. Or when I need to gather materials.”

“It is so green. I have not seen so many plants as such. In Russia we do not have many and even after running to here, the city has few green places.”

“Well, I was just going to go on my break if you’d like to look at the greenhouse with me.”

Vithka frowns. “What has broken?”

“Break can mean, take a short time off work to relax.”

“Oh. Should I interrupt this time?”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Then please show me.”

Fred guides her from the lab to a hallway and to another door to the outside. The greenhouse is immediately visible, its walls of glass reflecting the sun harshly. There are plants pushing against the ceiling and one side of the structure from the inside. Fred wishes not for the first time that they could upgrade.

Vithka already seems wrapped in the building before her, idly following Fred inside.

The heat hits them first, all humidity and warmth that Fred has grown used to and now enjoys. He notices with most visitors that they find it stifling and Vithka is no different. He imagines she’s used to much colder climate, but besides breaking out in a sweat, she shows no other signs of distress. Instead her eyes are tracking everything and her head swivels to catch every leaf.

“Beautiful, huh?”

She doesn’t seem to think words can express this sentiment very well and Fred can imagine that using another language to do so would be a little difficult. “You have research here?”

Fred nods. “I want to know everything about these guys. They’re all so unique.”

“Could you tell me?”

Fred thinks she would be bored, but remembers Blink’s words from the other night about Vithka choosing to be at the campus over… anywhere else. Maybe she just wants to learn.

He goes on for a while. Too long, really. It’s his passion though and it’s rare he gets to prattle on to people outside his lectures. It’s interesting to watch Vithka hang onto the words as if delighted by every new bit of information. She’s an ideal student and he’s gone a little over the time he has when he finally stops.

“Sorry to lecture you. I have to get back to work now unfortunately.”

She shakes her head. “It was interesting. May I having permission to stay?”

Looking around, Fred shrugs. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything. And promise me you’ll leave if you get too hot. There’s bottles of water over there. Make sure to drink some.”

She agrees easily and is already in a sort of trance by the time Fred makes it to the door. He notices a man outside, looking tired and watching the area around the greenhouse carefully.

“Sorry,” Fred says. “But is there something I can do for you.”

The man gestures to Vithka. “Sorry, sir. I’m in charge of watching and keeping Ms. Lar’il safe today. Please don’t mind me.”

So this is what Blink meant about security? For a brief moment Fred wonders if he should worry that Vithka is someone dangerous, perhaps even sent by Von Dutch, but thinks back to the look in her eyes as she took in a white dalia. There’s just no way.

→⚫⚫⚫←

Val greets Jeremy as he slides into the room. “Got mail?”

Jeremy’s smile is warm. “Yep. A few things.” He plops down a small pile. “How’s things at home.” He gives the picture on her desk a glance.

“Good. Trym’s doing really well at school. We’re pretty proud of her.”

Jeremy nods. “Think she’ll go into the force?”

Val sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t think she’d like it. I’d prefer her to find a way to help people that she really enjoys.”

He hums at this but soon is on his way, pushing a cart with more envelopes and packages with him. Her office door closes quietly.

The letters are mostly business. She gets an invite to a charity ball and another award ceremony over an officer taking a bullet for his partner. It’s all very routine stuff.

Her hands grab up a manila envelope that she notes has no return address. She opens it with nimble fingers before sliding out the contents and promptly dropping it on her desk, startled.

It’s a photo. Or photos really. She recognises herself outside the Santoro house, hugging Zadia goodbye. She’s almost convinced herself that none of these shots are good enough to indicate her when there’s a closeup that makes her face more obvious, and then one of her getting in her car blocks away.

Her hands itch for her mobile but she hesitates. What if her phone is tapped? What kind of threat is this anyway? Are they planning on sending these to anyone? Blackmailing her? Scaring her? She has no clue. Perhaps all of the above.

Looking out at the officers outside her office, she feels paranoia seep into her bones. Do they know? Perhaps one of them is spies. She’s grown to love the force that works beneath her and now she can’t help but doubt every single one.

It’s nearing three in the afternoon and she longs to leave early and pick up Trym. She has to remind herself that this job is important too and Fred has her and won’t let anything happen. It’ll be okay.

She starts to wonder if they should move. She could try and rush a transfer. Fred can work anywhere. It wouldn’t be impossible.

But she was sick of hiding from this problem. She needed to deal with Von Dutch now. She wouldn’t run anymore and she wouldn’t let him escape her grasp ever again.

→⚫⚫⚫←


End file.
